


These Are Cold Days

by seamscribe



Series: These Are Cold Days [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Angst, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Redemption, References to Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Threesome - F/M/M, magical fix-it threesome, therapeutic threesomes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:30:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5392676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seamscribe/pseuds/seamscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's Jo. She's in the hospital. She tried—she almost drowned.”</p><p>She tried, she tried, she tried.</p><p>An emergency drags four people together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1, Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm fascinated by all these characters. Tags will be added.

 

 

 

These Are Cold Days

Part 1, Chapter 1

 

 

 

 

I've finally gotten to the point where I can sleep through the night. But I can't sleep through the phone ringing.

 

I should stop to think, I should stop to realize that I do not want whatever news I'm about to get, but the phone is next to the bed in case of emergencies and I just want the damn thing to stop ringing, anyway. I roll away from Katniss and grab the receiver, cupping my hand over it.

 

I don't have time to say hello.

 

“Peeta?”

 

I know I'm not delusional--nothing's shiny, this is real, but I still wonder if I'm hearing things.

 

But I don't want Katniss to know Gale is calling in the middle of the night unless she really has to. I just say, “Yes?”

 

“How fast could you be ready to go if I sent a hovercraft right now?”

 

“Don't be cryptic,” I snap. I can hear Katniss listening, still as a stone behind me.

 

“It's Jo.”

 

I sit up. “What is?”

 

“She—she's in the hospital. She tried—she almost drowned.”

 

_She tried, she tried, she tried_.

 

“I think you should come here,” he continues. “To Three.”

 

Well, at least he didn't say the Capitol. I don't think Johanna would be caught dead there. Ha ha.

 

“I can leave in fifteen if you can get here that fast.”

 

“More like an hour.”

 

I squeeze the receiver and mumble, “Just me?”

 

“If you don't mind,” he says stiffly. Katniss will love that.

 

“See you soon.”

 

The instant I hang up, Katniss says, “Who was that?” But when I roll over to look at her, I can tell she already knows.

 

“It was Gale. He's in Three with Johanna. Something's wrong.” I swing my legs over the side of the bed and reach for my prosthetic.

 

“What is he doing with Johanna?”

 

“I don't know,” I say, standing up and going to the closet. I have a suitcase that hasn't seen much use in the past two years, since I came back to District Twelve, where so much has been razed to the ground and what's been built up in its place still looks raw in spots. The new growth is a lot different from the Twelve I grew up in, a result of people from other districts moving in and trying to take charge of things. A lot of people have a fascination with District Twelve now; it's where rebels are born, it's where the weary never give up, it's where coal turns to pearls. People want to move here and feel the energy. The thing is, perseverance is all about saving your strength. The closer to the Capitol they come from, the more boring they wind up finding it here. Of course, boring is what we've always wanted.

 

I start to throw things in the suitcase. “I should see if she's okay.”

 

“Well, what did he say?” she asks anxiously.

 

_She tried, she tried, she tried._

 

“She almost drowned.”

 

Katniss twists her braid. “Why would she be in the water?” she whispers.

 

I shake my head with a sigh. I know why she was in the water. I don't know how she got herself that far, but I know why. “I should see if she's okay.”

 

Katniss throws the blankets out and starts to get up. “Well, I'm coming with you.”

 

“You're not even legal to leave Twelve.”

 

“Who's gonna stop me?” she says, rolling her eyes. “Do I have one of those?” she asks, pointing to the suitcase.

 

“Katniss...I think--I'll just go, okay?”

 

“What?”

 

“Gale. Asked me to come.”

 

“You mean, he told you not to bring me.”

 

“Honey, I say this in the most loving way—don't make this about you.” Her face closes up and my first instinct is to apologize, but I wait until her expression flattens out to continue. “And whatever Gale is doing there, I doubt he needs anything else to deal with. I'll tell you if you should come and we'll see if you can get a pardon or something.”

 

She bites her nails. I know they'll be bloody this time tomorrow. “Why would she be in the water?” she says again. I take her hands in mine and bring them up to kiss her white knuckles. “Not _Johanna_.”

 

I pull her into my arms and kiss her forehead. “I'm gonna see her, and I'm gonna make sure she's okay, and then I'll be home.”

 

She presses her face into my chest and moans, “How long will you be gone?”

 

I know she's thinking about the nightmares. I'd hope it would be better after so long, but it's been over a year since either of us slept alone. Then again, I'm good at sleeping in hospital rooms.

 

“Hopefully not long.” I kiss her cheek. “I'll miss you,” I whisper. Her face is pale and her eyes are filling with tears. I know she wants to ask me to stay. But she knows she can't.

 

I don't know where she disappears to while I finish packing. She's not in the kitchen and I don't see her while I'm making dough for cheese buns that she can make later. She only turns back up right before I leave, when the hovercraft is droning quietly on the front lawn.

 

On the doorstep, I say, “Promise me you'll get out of bed tomorrow?”

 

“Promise me you'll come back.”

 

I whisper, “Always,” against her lips. “I love you.”

 

She kisses me and almost lets me leave without saying it, but she runs after me and says, “I love you, too.”

 

I start toward the hovercraft and call over my shoulder, “You'll have to tell Haymitch!” I hear her curse in the darkness. Haymitch is legally allowed to gowherever the hell he wants, but he hasn't stepped a foot outside Twelve since the day he came back. I know he feels guilty about not seeing Johanna. I can't help feeling like I'm going to come home to chaos. I should call Dr. Aurelias as soon as I get to Three. Maybe he's already on his way there.

 

My heart is racing on the hovercraft. Something about going from a hovercraft to a hospital is a little too familiar to be anything but terrifying. Still, I'm able to remind myself that I'm not here for me. There are no tests or experiments or _needles_. Still, maybe I should tell the hospital staff. Or I could ask Gale for some handcuffs. I'm sure he'd be happy to supply.

 

I haven't let myself worry too much about seeing Gale. The last time I saw him was actually in District Twelve, the one time he visited. Hazelle insisted that I stop by for tea. She knows how awkward it is between us, but her view is that anyone could die at anytime, so you should have everyone over for tea. It backfired that time. There was about thirty seconds of silence before Gale had stormed out of the house and disappeared for the rest of the day. Haymitch had mumbled, “Lord help us if he runs into his _cousin_ out there.”

 

But Katniss stayed in her house, and mostly in her room, and mostly in her bed, the entire six days he was there. Of course, she had gone much longer than that without leaving the house, but not quite so purposefully. I have no idea what the hell Gale did in those six days. I never saw him again, on the road to town or through the bakery window or anything. I thought I did one day, in the meadow, but it was Rory. I've made that mistake more than once.

 

I will not let his passive aggressive comments get to me. I will be sane and serious. He will not look at me and see the person who almost choked the life out of the girl he loved. Loves. Loved.

 

A nurse stares at me for a moment in awe before she can tell me where Johanna's room is. Tucked away in Twelve, it's pretty easy to forget what a big celebrity I am. At least she didn't cry.

 

I see Gale before he sees me. He's slumped over on a bench in the hallway with his face in his hands. His hair has gotten surprisingly long for someone working in the government.

 

I clear my throat and say his name and he straightens up quickly, unfolding into his full six foot plus, still that annoying few inches on me. He's broadened a little, even. They obviously feed 'em well in District Three, although I imagine Gale spends a lot more time pacing in a strategy room than actually on the battlefield. Not sure if he would love it or hate it. Everything I know about Gale comes from Johanna, who only ever mentions him on the phone by accident, more and more often as he became a fixture in all her stories.

 

I was as baffled as Katniss when Johanna first said 'we' did something and explained that 'we' was 'me and the tall drink of angst that you call Gale Hawthorne'. Just as Jo and I were in the Capitol for months together under the sharp eye of Dr. Aurelius, they had met in the waiting room of his office in Three. He did a lot of traveling since no one wanted to go to the Capitol. I never found out what pushed Gale into the doctor's office.

 

When I asked why she would want to hang out with Gale Hawthorne, she said he was the only person as angry as her.

 

“That doesn't sound healthy.”

 

“Look, don't be smug just because Katniss threw herself into your stupid arms as soon as you got there.” I hung up on her.

 

First, they had just gotten a drink, then a late-night dinner because neither of them slept well. Then a movie, which had to be carefully selected because it couldn't contain 'fucking stupid love shit' or 'guns'. And if it could also not have light switches or bath tubs, that would be a plus. That left them with a movie so dumb that they started drinking after twenty minutes.

 

“What, are you carrying a flask now, Haymitch?” She hung up on me.

 

But I didn't think Katniss needed to know that Johanna and Gale were best pals now. I think that may backfire.

 

Gale's voice is hoarse when he says, “I'm so glad you're here.”

 

_That's a first_ , I think, but that's not a mature thought. “Thanks for calling me. Thanks for the hovercraft. Where's Jo?” He points across the hall but stops me when I start for the door.

 

“She's completely passed out. They really dosed her.” He sees my frown and adds, “She needed it.” He scratches at his arm and I see long red slashes. Luckily, Johanna's nails are always short. More practical that way. Still, she has managed to do a bit of damage.

 

“You should get that fixed up,” I say. He doesn't reply, he doesn't even so much as look at me. A nurse eventually comes along and sternly forces Gale into a treatment room. I go for the door as soon as he's around the corner.

 

Johanna is small and still and white as a sheet in the middle of the bed. No, not white, _blue_ , like she's still not getting enough air. _No_ , I think, _that's stupid_. She's breathing. She is breathing. I go to the side of the bed and lean down to hear it, the slow rasp that means she's still here. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and that's when I suddenly feel exhausted. I was fast asleep in Katniss's arms not even three hours ago. If I raised the blinds on the window, I'd see the sun rising over the mountains in the distance.

 

I must fall asleep because the sun is stretching across the floor when I open my eyes. I wake up because someone is poking me in the ear. “Cut it out,” I mumble, reaching up and catching Johanna's hand. “I'm glad you're okay,” I sigh. I finally look up to meet her eyes and they look so blank that my blood runs cold for a moment.

 

She cracks a little smile and whispers, “Where's our little Mockingjay?”

 

“Gale asked her not to come.”

 

“Gale,” she sighs, looking up at the ceiling.

 

“He was the one who saved you.” She doesn't look back at me and I finally say, “What happened, Johanna?”

 

“I knew there would be a storm last night. I should have known he'd follow me,” she says, shaking her head.

 

“Well, I'm sure glad he was there. Jo, I'm so sorry, I didn't know.”

 

“Not like I'd tell you.”

 

“But Gale?”

 

“He followed me out in the middle of the night. He'd been stalking me all day. Didn't think I should be alone,” she says, rolling her eyes. I like her grumpy, it makes her look more like herself. “A little more perceptive than I'd have guessed.”

 

“Of course he's perceptive, he's a strategist. Anyway, I don't care who was there, I'm just glad you're okay.” I lower my voice and add, “I know you're probably mad at him, but I'm not.”

 

“How long have you been here?”

 

I yawn as if on cue and check my watch. “Hm, only four hours.”

 

“Did they pick you up VIP-style?”

 

“Yeah. Gale called and just said, 'how fast can you be ready to leave'?”

 

“And you just hopped on? You'll fall for anything, Mellark,” she says with a small smirk. “Imagine if he was really out to get you.”

 

“Gale's not a good actor. You can't fake that kind of panic.” She looks away, licking her cracked lips. She winces. “Why didn't he wanna leave you alone?”

 

She dodges the question, saying, “Is Dr. A waiting in the wings yet?”

 

“I don't know,” I admit. “I kept meaning to call him. I hope someone thought to.”

 

“He has a sixth sense for these things,” Johanna assures me.

 

“I get the feeling sometimes, yeah.”

 

Her eyes rake over me. “You look like shit. You really _did_ jump right on the hovercraft, didn't you?”

 

“Course I did.”

 

“You should get some rest.”

 

“Back at you.”

 

“Sleep's not gonna stop me from looking like shit right now.”

 

“I'm just happy to see you.”

 

“You're so fucking diplomatic,” she snorts.

 

I take her hand and say, “I'll just sleep right here, yeah?”

 

She swallows and says, “Yeah.”

 

I get a terrible crick in my neck, obviously, but I'm happy to lay there for hours, watching the steady in-and-out of her breathing. I fall asleep and I must really be tired because I don't have any nightmares.

 

Johanna does, though. Just the one. Hers is quiet, maybe because of the morphling-type stuff they're dosing her with. I can only tell because she cries, totally silent, and grips my hand in her sleep. She wakes from it quickly and falls back asleep after she finds my eyes.


	2. Part 1, Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people never follow orders. Also, we need to talk about Gale.

 

 

 These Are Cold Days

Part 2, Chapter 2

 

 

 

I feel a clumsy hand in my hair. I open my eyes against the sun, strong enough to be midday. Johanna's brown eyes are a little clearer now, but still distant, maybe in Seven or Thirteen, maybe back in the water.

 

“Good morning,” I say, sitting up with a groan.

 

“More like afternoon,” she smirks. “I made the nurse bring you breakfast.”

 

The hospital breakfast is as exciting as I expect: rubber eggs, dry toast, a single strip of bacon, and a stingy portion of orange juice. Still, I never turn my nose up at food.

 

Johanna yawns and grumbles, “I wish I could have a fucking cup of coffee like a normal fucking person. _Aurelius_ decided coffee was too _dangerous_ or something.”

 

"I'd offer to sneak you some, but Dr. A is usually right.”

 

“Yeah,” she snorts. “If he can fix you, maybe there's hope for me yet.”

 

“Trust me, I'm not fixed.”

 

“That's good for Katniss.”

 

I admit, it takes me a second to get it before I laugh, which makes her laugh, too. “I guess I walked into that.”

 

“He'll probably never get off my case now,” she sighs.

 

“He better not,” I say gravely. “But—why Gale?”

 

“Why Gale what?” she scowls, picking at her eggs.

 

“Why was he there?”

 

“I told you, he followed me.”

 

“Did you think he would jump in?”

 

“No way. He could have died. Wasn't really what I was getting at, ya know?”

 

“Well, he did it anyway. He cares about you.”

 

She glares at me and says, “We're not fucking.”

 

“Okay, okay.”

 

“For fuck's sake...”

 

“But is there something _going on_?”

 

“No.” She shoves her tray away. “Leave the interrogation to Aurelius, Mellark.”

 

“Okay, forget about Gale. What happened the other day? I mean—why then?”

 

She looks down and picks at the blanket. Finally, she says, “It was Annie.” She glances at me. “I talked to Annie.”

 

After a moment, I say, “Well, I'm not gonna be the one to tell Annie that talking to her makes people wanna die.”

 

She bursts out laughing, but it quickly turns into sobs. “I should _be_ there. But I can't. I look at that kid and wish...” I squeeze her hand. She pulls it away and briskly wipes her tears. “I don't know what I wish,” she bites out. “I wish Annie didn't hate me. I wish I wasn't such a coward.”

 

“Annie doesn't hate you.”

 

“I should _be_ there. Effie fucking _Trinket_ is the one taking care of her!”

 

“No offense, but—you taking care of people doesn't seem like a great idea right now.”

 

“Anyway,” she says, as if she hasn't heard me. “I talked to Annie. It had been something like three months since I even called. She had to call _me_ , and you know how she hates the phone. She said the kid's a great swimmer.” She starts to cry again. “And that he looks just like him. I can't look at that. I can't look at that.”

 

Before I can answer, I hear a rising clamor from outside. I can guess what happened immediately: Katniss couldn't stand staying at home and got the first hovercraft she could wrangle, came straight to the hospital, and ran smack into Gale.

 

And now they're screaming outside her hospital room. Johanna sighs as I storm out of the room.

 

I try to get a word in—I can barely tell what they're even saying. I finally have to yell to get their attention. Security is lurking in the background, obviously hesitant to get within five feet of Katniss Everdeen, Victor, Hero, Murderer.

 

I take them both by the arm and pull them away from Johanna's room. “What is _wrong_ with you?” I hiss. “I swear, you _must_ be the two most self-centered people on the planet,” I shake my head.

 

Katniss cringes at my words and I know I'll feel bad when I'm a little less angry. “I couldn't just stay home,” she says sullenly.

 

“You're not supposed to be here,” Gale grumbles. Katniss glares and opens her mouth to reply.

 

“You two need to grow up in the next five minutes, because you're not screaming at each other in front of Johanna. _You_ should know better,” I say, pointing at Gale. “Now—I don't know, go to separate corners and think about what you did,” I snap.

 

They both snort, but Gale walks away. Katniss turns to me expectantly and says, “So which room is it?”

 

“Oh, you can't talk to Johanna right now.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Sorry,” I shrug. “You need a time-out, babe.”

 

She glares at me before she walks away.

 

I'm somewhat relieved to find that Johanna has fallen asleep in the last five minutes. I guess she really could have used that coffee.

 

I'm exhausted, so I wrangle one of the visitors' rooms and get under the stiff, sterile covers. It's always freezing in hospitals. The room reminds me of District 13. They could hang a painting or something. Maybe I should donate one, one that isn't full of blood and gore. Maybe a nice, boring field. That's what Dr. A has taught me to visualize when I feel anxious. I can pass a good twenty minutes just imagining all the different shades of yellow that I would need to paint the wheat.

 

I try to picture it, but I'm so tired that I fall asleep before I get far. I expect Katniss to come up, but she never shows. I'll have to scour all the broom closets for her. I wish I hadn't called her self-centered...whether it was accurate or not.

 

I fall asleep without Katniss and wake up feeling guilty. I want to kiss her and tell her I'll never have a bad thought about her again. But, I remind myself, this isn't about Katniss, it's about Johanna, so I get out of bed and go down to her room.

 

I find that Katniss has beaten me there. She and Johanna are sitting on Jo's bed, eating something flat and round off of plastic trays.

 

“Hey, Mellark,” Jo says. “Can you believe Brainless has never had flapjacks?”

 

“What the hell is a flapjack? And did you get me any?” I notice she has a cup of coffee on her tray. “Hey, you're not supposed to have that. Is this _your_ doing?” I say to Katniss.

 

She shrugs. “Creature comforts.” She picks up her fork and holds it out to me. “Wanna try?”

 

Flapjacks are amazing and sticky-sweet. I end up eating quite a few even though Johanna grumbles that it was gonna be her midnight snack.

 

“ _Four_ pancakes?” Katniss says. She sounds impressed. “Your teeth are gonna fall out.”

 

“Creature comforts,” Johanna says defensively.

 

Katniss shrugs. “They're _your_ cavities.” She gives a massive yawn, which sets Johanna and I off with yawns of our own. “It's pretty early, I guess, but I'm tired. I think I might go to bed.”

 

“Aw, we were gonna have a wild party in just a few minutes,” Jo says.

 

“You _would_ have a wild party from your hospital bed,” Katniss grins. She drops her tray in the garbage and leans over Johanna, kissing the top of her head. Johanna looks baffled by the sudden display of affection. “See you in the morning.” She looks at me. “See you soon?” She almost sounds uncertain.

 

“Of course.” It feels like it's been a week since I held her or kissed her or got lost in her eyes. I take her hand and press a kiss to the back.

 

She's out of the room before she can see the tears starting to make there way across Johanna's face. She wipes at them, muttering, “I wish I could stop fucking crying. Fucking annoying.” She clears her throat. “Get your beauty sleep?”

 

“Hey, you've got eyes,” I grin. “Gale been around?”

 

“I don't know. I was on the phone all afternoon with fucking Aurelius, or that quack, as Gale calls him. Then I fell asleep and next thing I know, Brainless is here asking me if there's anything I can stuff my face with that would make me feel better. I wanted to rustle you up when I picked flapjacks, but she didn't want to. She was all mopey about it, it was truly pathetic.”

 

“Have some respect for the woman who brought you flapjacks. How'd you even get them?”

 

“Well, _I_ imagine she went down to the kitchen and basically yelled 'listen up, assholes, I'm the Mockingjay and I need some fucking flapjacks over here!'”

 

“That definitely sounds like Katniss,” I nod.

 

“Anyway, you would have heard it if they were in the same room, right?”

 

“He _did_ ask her not to come.”

 

Johanna scowls and says, “What do I care?”

 

I shrug. “Maybe you don't.”

 

“I _just_ got done telling Brainless that I'm _not_ his fucking girlfriend.”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“Shut up.” I shut up. I'm used to long silences, so I easily outlast Jo. “It's too complicated, okay?” she finally huffs. I shrug. I can't fight her on that one. “For one thing, I'm not really interested in living with Everdeen's ghost. Either of them.”

 

I wince. “That's pretty harsh, Jo.”

 

“Well, life is harsh, that's kind of what I was thinking when I jumped off the rocks, moron,” she snaps. “Get out. I'm going to sleep.”

 

“Aw, Jo--”

 

“ _Get. Out_.” She rolls over, turning her back on me. I sigh and lean over, pressing a kiss to about the same place Katniss did. She groans, waving a hand at me. “What is with this kissing crap? Everyone needs to keep their lips off me,” she grumbles. I squeeze her shoulder and say goodnight.

 

Katniss is already waiting for me in the small, narrow bed. “Reminds you of 13, huh?” she says, gesturing to the gray room. I nod, starting to get undressed. “And you decided to give the hospital a painting.”

 

“The thought crossed my mind,” I admit, settling in next to her.

 

“I missed you,” she whispers. “Sorry, but I did.”

 

I pull her into my arms. “I'm happy you're here.” I kiss her. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

 

“No. The geese were going nuts.”

 

“What did you tell Haymitch?”

 

“Just that you needed to see Johanna. I didn't know what to say."

 

"I thought you would come up here earlier when I was sleeping.”

 

“I got caught by Aurelius. He didn't lay off for an hour.”

 

“What did he say?”

 

She shakes her head as a reply. She slips a hand under my shirt leans into me. “I wish I wasn't so tired. I really did miss you,” she says with a smile that's almost playful.

 

“We'll have plenty of time when we get home.” Forever, if I'm lucky. I push her hair away from her face and kiss her forehead. “Get some sleep.”

 

“I love you,” she whispers.

 

“I love you, too."

 

I turn out the light and pull up the blanket, but I can't fall asleep for longer than a few minutes at a time. Even one night alone has thrown me off. Katniss is as tired as I was yesterday, probably didn't sleep a second after I left, so she falls asleep without too much trouble. I'm not so lucky. Still, I'd rather not fall asleep at all than wake up from nightmares. It's certainly quieter.

 

Finally, I ease out of bed and out of the room. I set out without a real destination in mind, but I start to hear noises from the end of the hall from the gym, grunts and thuds and the disturbing sound of something like a chain swinging. I'm not sure what I'm afraid to find.

 

But in the end, I just find Gale.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you found any logical or canonical errors!
> 
> I'm fascinated by these characters, so please let me know what you think in the comments. :)
> 
> Next time, Gale and Peeta need to ~talk it out.


	3. Part 1, Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gale and Peeta come to blows.

 

 

 

These Are Cold Days

Part 1, Chapter 3

 

 

Gale is too busy taking his rage out on the punching bag to hear me stop in the doorway. I don't know if his _form_ is good or anything like that, but he looks _powerful_. I turn to go, but Gale notices me the instant I move. His hand reaches for something, probably the gun that isn't there. I wonder if he still carries one—he's more of an engineer here in Three, figuring out the most efficient way to get things done. I think he tried in Two doing military strategy, but--well.

 

He covers his surprise well. “Don't get yourself shot,” he says with a scowl. He puts an arm around the bag to stop it swinging. “Can't sleep?”

 

“Nothing new,” I shrug.

 

“I didn't think it would be so quiet up here. It's like a madhouse downstairs.” He pales and adds, “You know what I mean!”

 

“Don't worry,” I snicker. “I won't repeat that. You got one of those at home?” I ask, waving at the punching bag.

 

“Yeah. Got a lot of stuff.” He takes a few swings, bobbing around the bag and jumping in and out of the shadows. "That quack Aurelius thinks I have some kind of exercising problem," he snorts.

 

I glance at his biceps and say, "Well, I won't tell on you." I rub my knee. The ache gets worse with stress. I'm sure some star-struck nurse would give me morphing if I asked nicely, but I have kind of a thing about needles these days. "Not a problem I have," I say ruefully. The biggest workout I get is the walk to the bakery, or running from Haymitch's mad geese when they get out. Well, that's not true. Katniss and I hike out to the lake every few weeks, and the cold water always feels like heaven by the time we get there. It's worth it. The lake is still the place where she's the most free. It doesn't hurt that we always make love on the beach.

 

Almost under his breath, Gale mumbles, "Does Katniss rub that for you?" He punches the bag.

 

I scoff--of all the fucking things to be jealous about. He has a whole family that's alive and sitting in Twelve and he's jealous that Katniss might be giving me massages?

 

"Aw, poor baby," I sneer. "Do you want me to rub your back?"

 

"Fuck off," he huffs and punches.

 

I lay back onto the mat with a sigh and say, "But really, massage does help with the scars." I press my lips together. "Maybe Jo can do it for you."

 

"Yeah, if she's alive next week."

 

I jump off the mat and yell, "Don't you dare say that! Don't you _dare_ say that!" I take a deep, _deep_ breath and say, "If you care about her, you won't say shit like that. If we give up on her--" I don't finish the thought.

 

"I don't give up,” he snaps. "I just..." He doesn't finish his thought, either.

 

I sit back down, digging my nails into my palms. I'm just going to have to convince Jo to come back to Twelve with us. Gale is obviously not equipped to deal with this, and neither am I, but at least I can get over myself for five minutes.

 

Suddenly, he says, “The light. The light at the end of the tunnel. It's not there. It's just…well, a tunnel, I guess. Anyway,” he says quickly. “What are you even gonna do in here?” he asks, turning back to the punching bag. “Throw flour?”

 

“Ha ha. I don't know. Not sleep. Annoy you, I'm sure.”

 

He grunts and starts swinging. I sit and watch again for a few minutes before I have to look away when he peels his shirt off. The scars across his back from his whipping are faded but still there.

 

He must notice because his shoulders draw up and he sneers, “Didn't think you'd be one to turn away from scars.”

 

“They remind me of--” A whole lot of things, actually, but mostly, “Madge.”

 

We sit in a tainted silence for a long moment until he quietly says, “She brought me the morphling.”

 

“I know. I remember.”

 

“She always overpaid for strawberries.”

 

I look at him and realize that there's a second blonde haunting him. Even if logic tells him it's the Capitol's fault that Madge is dead, I'm sure some small voice in his head says he could have saved her. Seeing Prim in every sweet child and Madge in every beautiful blonde. It probably even stings to see Posy, who has just passed her eighth birthday and is more like Katniss at that age than Prim, a little on the bossy side, never quiet. She wears her hair in the same twin braids sometimes and on my bad days, I see so much of Katniss that my heart skips a beat and I'm not sure when I am.

 

And Gale had been horrible to Madge, of course, for her parents and her house and her full fridge and strawberry money. She'd always just press her mouth into a resigned line and say, “That's just how it is.” And often, she would mumble under her breath, “That's just how they make it.” The first time, she had cut her eyes to me, stiff with fear at what she'd said. I had nodded mutely. She had sighed with relief and whispered, “I could never say that at home. They listen, you know. They're always listening.”

 

And once, she had added, “Besides, Gale looks pretty funny when he gets mad.”

 

But there are lots of ugly things she'll never have to know about: my hijacking, Gale's bomb, Prim, Katniss's _murder_ trial. _Growing pains_ , as they are usually referred to in government speeches.

 

Thinking about Madge hurts. I suddenly want to run, back to Katniss, back to the quiet home we've built, and pretend none of this is happening. It's a horrible, traitorous thought, but I have it.

 

Gale's sides are black and blue, probably from crashing against the rocks in the water while he was saving Johanna. Quietly, I ask, “What made you follow her that night?” His mouth settles into a frown and I know he's gonna feed me a lie, probably a bad one. “She already told me about the storm and Annie and everything.”

 

“Then you can figure it out.”

 

“No, I mean—how'd you get to know her so well?”

 

“She lives here.”

 

I roll my eyes and say, “I know it comes naturally, but don't be dense.”

 

“She's my friend,” he shrugs.

 

“Uh-huh. So you're not sleeping with her?”

 

“No,” he says shortly, turning his back on me. “And I'm sure she already told you that.”

 

“But you like her.”

 

“How is this your business?”

 

“It _is_ my business. It's been my business since I got on that hovercraft.”

 

He spins around and hisses, “It hasn't been your business for the last six months. You have _no_ idea what it's been like here. I had to break into her apartment because I thought she might be dead. I had to start _following_ her, for fuck's sake. If she hadn't hit her head, she probably would have drowned us both. I thought I was gonna watch another fucking person die in front of me. You know she told me she hated me when I got her out of the water? If she hadn't hit her head on a rock, she would have drowned us both.”

 

“Katniss has told me she hated me before, for saving her that day in the City Circle.” I shrug. “Sometimes you want to die. Then you don't. That's why we always save each other. Like it or not.” I pause, then ask, “Why did you call me?”

 

“Johanna thinks you're strong. One of the strongest people she's ever met.”

 

“... _Me_?” Gale rolls his eyes at what he probably thinks is false modesty. “I mean—I remember crying like a baby and holding her hand through the bars and asking if we were gonna die.”

 

“And she said 'I don't know, but if we don't, we'll probably wish we had.'”

 

“Wow...I mean, I knew you spent a lot of time together, but I didn't know you were 'talking about torture' close. Anyway, I told her that wasn't really reassuring and cried some more.” And somewhere Effie had been screaming 'what's happening, what's happening' while Annie was singing in the dark and the scent of blood was inescapable because it was coming from _me_.

 

“So you remember everything now?”

 

“No. Just bits and pieces.”

 

He crosses his arms over his chest. “Try to kill anyone lately?”

 

“What's your definition of 'lately'?”

 

“I haven't tried to hurt Katniss, no, since that's what you're asking.”

 

I expect a thorough interrogation, but he gives me a close look and nods. “Good.” He drops to the floor and starts doing one-armed push-ups. Sharing time is obviously over.

 

Now I _know_ his form is good—perfect, actually—having done about a million one-armed push-ups in wrestling practice. Although I'm sure he looks more graceful doing it. He's a little too tall for wrestling, really, but I suddenly wonder why he never tried out anyway. Maybe he could have beaten my asshole brother and we could have been first and second.

 

What the hell am I thinking? I'm delirious. I need to sleep and stop talking about dead people with Gale in the dark. Is this what he and Johanna do together?

 

“Do you still wrestle?” he asks suddenly.

 

My first thought is _how did he know I was thinking about that he's a Mutt he's a Mutt kill him now now now_. I quickly reassure myself—we're in a gym and I used to wrestle, it's a pretty normal question. All this happens in about a second. I'm used to it by now, the initial flash of panic and the torrent of rationalizations. _Not real, not real, not real._

 

I snort. “Against who, Katniss?”

 

Although, truthfully, I did show Rory a few moves, but there's no telling Gale that I'm probably closer to his brother than he is right now. I know why he can't come back. So does Rory, but it doesn't make it much easier. He said once that he felt like he'd lost a father twice-over. I went to Haymitch's house for lunch that today, meaning I made everything and took it over and hassled him until he ate it. He has good days and bad days and who the hell is there right now to make sure how many there are of them? I have to call Mrs. Hawthorne and see if she'll keep an eye on him. I hope no one notices we're gone—Katniss and I disappearing from District Twelve would probably cause national hysteria. “Why?”

 

“Do you wanna go?”

 

“What do you mean, do I wanna _go_?”

 

“I mean, do you want to wrestle, idiot.”

 

It's definitely not a good idea. Adrenaline can make me...not myself. But if there's anyone I could try to kill without too much worry, it's Gale. I don't expect he'll be struck by a sentimental urge to save me if I go for his throat.

 

“Sure,” I say slowly. I give my knee a last rub and move onto the mat. I fight a smile and say, “Don't forget, I was an award-winning athlete.”

 

Gale rolls his eyes. “Yeah, in District _Twelve_.”

 

“Yes, where I _proudly_ live.”

 

His glance flickers away into the darkness. “Don't know how you do it.”

 

“Don't know how you stay away. You ready?” He nods and drops into a fighting stance. I expect his legs will make an easy target. He's too tall to be steady like this. “You're not gonna come crying tomorrow, are you?” I ask, pointing at the array of colors on his ribs.

 

He sneers and doesn't reply. His feelings on the matter are clear enough when he rams a shoulder into my stomach before I can take a step. But he stumbles and it's easy to flip him straight over my head, although it sends a sharp tingle through my knee. He recovers quick, quicker than me, grabbing the same leg and bringing me down. He gets a knee in the small of my back, but the other one's not steady, so I can do a hard roll and get him on his back.

 

But his long legs work in his favor now. He hooks one around mine, rolls on top of me, and throws the whole weight of his torso across my chest. My arms are pinned and the air is forced out of my lungs. It takes me back for a moment, remembering the smell of chalk and the dusty rays of hard sun that would filter into the gym in the late afternoon. Then Gale moves up enough to catch my eyes and what I remember isn't real at all.

 

What I see _\--_ see, _not_ remember—is Gale and Katniss, of course Katniss, their features blurring and distorting as their mouths open to show rows of razor teeth that are dripping with blood, they've already killed my family, but they will take their time on me--

 

“Mellark?...” _Not real. It's not real._ Gale backs up quickly, snapping his fingers in front of me.

 

“I'm fine,” I say, smacking his hand away. “You're not too bad,” I say, dusting myself off.

 

“I'm sure you're rusty,” he smirks.

 

I'm more rattled than I want to let on. I need a minute, so I close my eyes and say, “What's your favorite memory of Johanna?”

 

He sighs and huffs and finally says, “We went mushroom hunting. There's these mushrooms that the rich people go crazy for, they cost something like thirty coins a bucket. So we went out and picked about that many, fried 'em in bacon grease, and had them with the cheapest beer we could find.”

 

Heaven help me, they're a perfect match.

 

I win the next round by getting his arm wrenched behind him with one knee sinking into the back of his thigh.

 

“Man, that kind of hurts,” he says, pulling his knee to his chest and wincing.

 

“No whining,” I say sternly. “Stretch it out, son,” I say in a gruff voice, like our gym teacher used to yell.

 

“Ha. I always said, 'I'm not your son, old man'.”

 

“You probably got kicked out of gym a lot.”

 

“You were probably the teacher's pet.”

 

“Well, I was on the wrestling team. You never really came across as, you know, a team player.”

 

“Yeah, well, I didn't really have time to wrestle, did I?” he snaps. “But I'm sure the gym teacher was a merchant, so he probably didn't care.”

 

I want to protest that the gym teacher was actually really nice and would have at least _felt_ something, even if he couldn't _do_ something. But I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to bring up ancient rivalries that he's hanging onto. If the whole 'us versus them' thing works for him, who am I to point out that hundreds have died so we no longer have to look at each other with resentment because one of us is blonde and one isn't.

 

I just say, “Too bad for him.” Gale gives me a questioning look. “No squirrels.”

 

“They think it's weird here, you know,” he says. “Eating squirrels. They think it's weird everywhere. What a waste of food. The stupid things are all over the place.”

 

“You'd think it would be a delicacy now, since it's practically the official dish of District 12.”

 

“Guess they can't get past the squirrel aspect.”

 

“I really prefer venison, anyway. I've gotten spoiled.”

 

“Of course,” Gale scoffs. “You should eat more bacon,” he says, studying the floor. “She could use a little more fat.”

 

I narrow my eyes. “Mm-hmm. Is that what Johanna likes?”

 

“Yes. Bacon, flapjacks, and coffee, extra black.”

 

“How the hell do you get it extra black?”

 

“She likes the sludgy stuff at the bottom of the pot.”

 

“Yuck.”

 

“That's what I say. Aurelius told her to switch to tea, but that didn't go over very well. She gets the darkest tea she can find anyway,” he says with a wry smile. After a beat, he says, “Does she still like mint?”

 

_Yes, and she still hates the cat and she still turns red at an even slightly dirty joke and she still loves the color green and she licks her lips when she comes._

 

_“_ Yes.”

 

His jaw clenches and he looks away before he says, “Does she ever talk about me?”

 

I can't imagine how much it's costing him to ask. Still, I reply, “I'm not sure if you want me to say yes or no.”

 

“Just tell me the truth.”

 

“Not really,” I admit. “But there are a lot of things we don't really talk about,” I add.

 

He punches the mat and turns to me, glaring. “You just _so_ fucking magnanimous, aren't you, Mellark?”

 

“That's a real two-coin word,” I snort. “Help me out, what's it mean?”

 

“It means you think you're so fucking...” he huffs, looking completely disgusted. “ _Nice!”_

 

“I'm sorry to have intruded,” I say, getting up from the mat. “Truly sorry, believe me.” I'm halfway to the door before he calls out to me to wait. I turn back.

 

“Best two out of three.”

 

I shake my head. “You're ridiculous,” I mutter. But I do go over, determined to kick his ass before I go to bed.

 

I take a swipe at his legs, but he has the longer limbs and it quickly proves to be a mistake when he stretches over my back and gets a good enough grasp on my hips to throw me to the mat. I try to roll away, but I don't quite make it when he throws himself over me. The wind goes out of me hard enough to distract me, and long enough that he's able to get my arms in a tight grip between us. I'm pretty much pinned but we're still struggling in inches. I'm not beat yet. I feel his breath puff against my face, we're so close, and I wonder if I can just tire him out. So I keep moving.

 

Then it slowly dawns on me that I'm not really looking for a way out of the pin. I'm not even really trying to get my arms free. We're still moving, but the struggle is breaking down into something more like a _rhythm_ than a fight. The realization that I'm hard and my eyes have fallen closed and I'm biting my lip is like a bucket of ice water, something jarring that leaves me shivering. So too does the feeling of him against me, just as hard.

 

I open my eyes and we lock gazes without stopping. His eyes are a little glazed and, I suddenly notice, a few shades darker than Katniss'. Finally, I say, faintly, "I'm not sure we're fighting anymore."

 

He pulls away, looking as shocked as I am, like he has no idea how this happened. Was it me? All I know is the world has gone upside-down and I really wish that would stop happening.

 

I roll away, not looking at him. I get up and blurt out a stupid, shaky goodnight before I leave. I practically run back to my room, pressing my fingers to my lips, which are tingling for some reason. I have to get out of here. I'm calling Dr. Aurelius in the morning and convincing him that Johanna should come back to Twelve with us. Leaving Gale completely alone, but I don't care, _I don't care, I don't care,_ I tell myself.

 

I expect to be creeping back into bed in the dark, but the lights are on and I haven't even closed the door behind me before Katniss is in my arms, crying.

 

“Where _were_ you?” she gasps.

 

“I'm sorry, honey,” I say, closing my arms around her until she stills. “I couldn't sleep. I went down to the gym.”

 

“Is that why you're all sweaty?”

 

She can't see me bite my lip. “Yeah.”

 

She pulls back and kisses me, frantically. “I woke up and you were gone.”

 

“I'm sorry,” I say, gently pushing her hair out of her face. “You know I'm never far.” I kiss her. “Did you have a nightmare?” I ask, leading her back to bed.

 

“Yeah. Sorry, I guess...this is all...” That's as much as she gets out before she sighs in frustration and flops back onto the bed.

 

“I know,” I say, putting my arms around her. “I hope we can leave soon.”

 

“I doubt it,” she says grimly. “Aurelius didn't let you go for six months.”

 

“That's a little different.”

 

She's quiet for a long time, but I know she's not asleep. I know the flow and cadence of her breath better than my own. Eventually, she just tells me she loves me and drifts away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This completes Part 1! Please comment if you enjoyed or found any errors, etc.
> 
> Next part: Johanna gets visitors and things get tense.


	4. Part 2, Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna gets visitors and things get tense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be the last chapter I will post since this story hasn't gotten much attention.
> 
> I wrote a Gale/Johanna story in this universe called '365 Days of Getting By', please check it out!

 

 

 

These Are Cold Days

Part 2, Chapter 1

 

 

 

I take a brisk walk around the hospital, grateful that no one stops me or stares too openly. I slept heavily the night before, and I feel heavy this morning. I dreamed of pressure and weight and a sinking feeling, all of which I try to forget about as quickly as possible. If I could convince myself it was just a dream, I would. I've already dismissed the idea of telling Katniss—if it's incomprehensible to me, it will definitely be incomprehensible to her. Guilty, I promise to myself I'll find a way to tell her later, when we're safely at home.

 

So instead I'm trying to think of how I'm going to get Johanna on board with coming to Twelve as I walk to her room. I take a cursory look in the window and I already have my hand on the door before I look twice. Gale has beaten me here and taken my place, at the side of the bed with Johanna's hand in his and his head resting on her hip. I'm sure it didn't look so _intimate_ when it was me. 

 

This must be an intense moment because Gale doesn't even notice me. He is too busy now pressing kisses to the back of Johanna's hand. He says something, looking down at the blanket. I shouldn't even be looking but now I'm wishing I had sound, too. His expression when he looks up at her is so desperate that it can only come out of something raw—something like love.

 

Johanna responds, her eyes on her free hand, picking at the blanket. Then he moves up and kisses not her mouth, but her forehead. Then her cheek and I think it's the big moment, but he pulls back. Johanna's eyes have fallen shut, but Gale's have not. He looks up. It takes me about a split second to duck out of sight, but I know he's seen me. When he doesn't come storming out, I'm relieved that he at least probably hasn't told Johanna. I have a feeling I'd come face-to-face with death for the tenth or so time.

 

I start down the hallway when I hear someone call my name—someone with a very distinctive voice.

 

“Effie!”

 

She's in black, as usual—Effie hasn't worn anything but black in public since the groundbreaking of New Panem. However, that does not mean her wardrobe is boring. Today, she's wearing a long black dress with frothy sleeves and sparkling beads and tall, frightening heels. It turned out she was a natural blonde, and her hair falls in picture-perfect golden waves. 

 

The only thing not perfect is the long, curved scar that runs from the tip of her manicured eyebrows almost to her mouth in a crescent shape. Effie had thrown herself into work rebuilding the districts, but for a lot of people, having had anything to do with the Games was a guilty case, end of story. A few of them decided they would have blood. Their first victim turned up a corpse in pretty bad shape. They found Effie early—just a broken arm and the scar. They used some kind of acid on the knife; the scar could not be erased.

 

Truthfully, we all assumed that was it. Effie would go crazy and break and never come back.

 

Instead, she put us all to shame when she walked out of the hospital with her head high and her hair pinned back to give the photographers outside a good view of the raw red line. She worked as hard as before, if not harder. She still travels between the districts all the time, keeping her insane eye for detail on making sure every resource was going where it was needed in the most efficient way. She's started working more in Four to be near Annie. It's getting tough now that Finn is starting to look so much like his father.

 

The flash of gold around her neck is a Mockingjay necklace. She has not taken it off in years.

 

I hug her. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Well, I'm here to see Johanna, of course.”

 

“Oh. How did you know she was here?”

 

“Oh, darling, there are  _terrible_ gossips in this place. Where's Katniss?”

 

“Still sleeping, I think.”

 

She lowers her voice and says, “Is her awful cousin around?”

 

I can't help laughing. “He's in there with her right now,” I say. “And he'd probably go nuts if he heard you calling him that.”

 

“Ah, of course. I forget. Haymitch still calls him 'the cousin'.”

 

“He's the one who jumped in after her, you know.”

 

“Yes, we owe him a great debt,” she says, sounding a little unenthused. “By the way, Plutarch would love it if you would convince him to do some TV spots. Just passing the message along.”

 

Gale is probably the most famous person in New Panem after me and Katniss, and he makes a much better spokesperson than Katniss ever did.

 

“How the hell does Plutarch know?”

 

“Dear, who do you think is making sure none of this gets into the papers? Like I said, terrible gossips. Don't worry,” she says cheerfully. “I'll have them fired.”

 

“Well, I don't think Plutarch wants Gale on TV right now.”

 

Effie's business side comes out and she briskly informs me that she's arranged for a place for the three of us—me, Katniss, and Gale—to stay while we're here. 

 

“Dr. Aurelius indicated that she might stay here for a bit. I know these hospital rooms can't be at all up to par,” she sniffs.

 

“You talked to Aurelius?” I remember my urgent plans to get the hell out of District Three today. “I was going to do that...”

 

“Oh, don't be silly, dear, I'm sure you've got plenty to worry about. A car will arrive to take you at nine. That's the end of visiting hours and I don't want anyone disturbing Johanna's rest,” she says sternly.

 

“Wait, why is  _Gale_ coming? Doesn't he live here? Can't he go to his own house?”

 

“I have  _been_ to Mr. Hawthorne's home and he is lucky I don't have it condemned,” she says darkly. “Besides, you should all be together, I think.” 

 

I try not to make a face. “Did you talk to Haymitch?”

 

“Well, he didn't answer the phone, of course, but I asked Hazelle to check in on him. I'd go, but I don't think it would help. You know him.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

The door opens and Gale steps out. The glare he's giving me only worsens when he sees Effie.

 

“Trinket,” he says curtly.

 

Effie is only curt as a last resort. “Gale! It's so nice to see you again! Thank you so much for looking after our Johanna. I was in an absolute _fit_ of worry.”

 

Gale turns and walks away without another word.

 

Effie sighs and says, “Well, I suppose I'm going from one hopeless case of poor manners to another.” She knocks on the door and slips inside. I hear Johanna groan, “You better not have a fucking schedule or something, Trinket.”

 

I wonder for a moment if I should go after Gale. I don't know what for. I never have to decide because I hear the boom of another voice behind me—Dr. Aurelius.

 

I'm almost embarrassed by how relieved I am to see a friendly face. I greet him like my best pal, which I suppose he was, for awhile. I know it's just some psychological thing, but I instantly feel a little less panicked.

 

“Peeta! You look better than I expected to find you.”

 

“Thanks for being honest,” I say ruefully. “You look tired.”

 

“Well. Not everyday your aquaphobic patient almost drowns,” he says, looking in at her through the window. He looks even more tired in that moment. He clears his throat and says, “I hear you hopped in a hovercraft at 3 AM to get here. Interesting, that Gale thought to call you.” He would have such a head doctor field day if he knew... “I suppose things have been a bit strained here. Is that right?”

 

“I'm not in session, Doc.”

 

“Well, I can tell you've been spending time with Johanna,” he grumbles. “Has she been speaking to Gale?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

He gives me a wry smile and says, “It's a bit unprofessional, but I must admit, I'm rather rooting for those two.”

 

“Dammit. You were supposed to talk Jo into coming back to Twelve with me.”

 

“I'm _supposed_ to figure out what's best for Johanna at the moment, which remains to be seen,” he says. “Now, where is Katniss? Not in a vent somewhere, I hope?”

 

“Just sleeping when I left.”

 

“Sleeping well?”

 

“She had a nightmare early.”

 

“And you?”

 

“Too tired to dream,” I lie.

 

Effie comes out of the room unruffled, so at least I know Jo didn't scratch her eyes out. She exchanges a quick greeting with Dr. Aurelius before she leaves in a hurry. I follow the doctor in.

 

“Johanna, the nurse informed me that you refused to eat breakfast,” he says right away.

 

“What can I say, Brainless spoiled me last night. Flapjacks.”

 

“You probably gave yourself sugar shock,” he frowns. “Well,” he says, clapping his hands together. “No worry, you can have a nice, lovely lunch after we talk.”

 

Johanna glances at me and I know talking to Dr. Aurelius is the last thing she feels like doing. “Would you laugh at me if I said I changed my mind about breakfast? I'm starving.”

 

“Hm. Alright, I can speak with Gale in the meantime.”

 

I don't know if Gale has been lurking outside the door or if he just has eerily good timing, but he appears behind Dr. Aurelius and demands to know why we're talking about him.

 

“I was just about to track you down--” Aurelius begins.

 

“Oh, no no no, we don't need to--”

 

“Nonsense,” the doctor waves him off. “Don't worry, everyone will have to suffer through an hour with me. Or two!”

 

“Brainless can run pretty fast,” Johanna points out.

 

“Well, I'm here to have lunch with Johanna,” Gale says impatiently.

 

“Splendid! Why don't you all go? The hospital has a restuaraunt downstairs. It's on me! I insist!”

 

“You just want us out of the room so you can take a nap,” Johanna accuses him.

 

“You need some sun,” the doctor says sternly.

 

I've never been corralled like this by Aurelius, but I guess they have because Gale grumbles while Johanna starts to get out of bed with a groan.

 

“Did you sleep well?” I ask.

 

She shoots me a grin and says, “Like the dead.”

 

Aurelius slowly but surely ushers us out of the room. We run into Katniss just down the hallway and she nearly flees the scene when she sees Aurelius.

 

“Katniss, you're right on time, it's your favorite part of the day: lunch!” he laughs.

 

“He's trying to make us have fun,” Johanna tells her.

 

“Nonsense, Katniss needs sunshine, everybody needs sunshine!”

 

But he does hold Katniss and I back for a second. Seriously, he whispers, “Whatever goes on, make sure you look after Johanna.”

 

In the elevator, Katniss grumbles, “He's probably just wants to take a nap.” Everyone laughs at that, but the two girls laugh until they're almost in tears. Katniss puts an arm around Johanna's shoulder and says, “Did you sleep well?”

 

“Yeah, you?”

 

“It's a little spooky sleeping in a hospital,” Katniss shrugs.

 

“Effie arranged for a house for tonight,” I say. I glance at Gale and add, “You too.”

 

“What? Why do _I_ have to go? I _live_ here!”

 

“That's what I said. Effie said your house should be condemned.”

 

Johanna cackles and says, “She must have looked in your bathroom.”

 

Katniss laughs and covers it up with a stilted cough, then ruins it by shaking with silent laughter. “Effie sleeps at _Haymitch's_ house,” she explodes.

 

Gale handles this with the grace of a five-year-old, glaring straight ahead, and stalks ahead of us when the elevator doors open.

 

“He's got such a great sense of humor,” Johanna snorts. Katniss, for her part, elbows her and half-heartedly tells her to be nice, which also makes Johanna laugh. At least lunch is gonna be good for _something_. Even the awkward silence that settles over us after we order and sit seems to make her laugh. Katniss and Gale both keep their eyes mostly on the table while Johanna glances between with them with an expression that drifts between annoyance and amusement.

 

Katniss clears her throat and delivers us by mumbling, “I've never had a new potato.”

 

Gale sniffs and says, “Bet your ass it tastes just like an old one.”

 

“Maybe it's in honor of New Panem,” I suggest. “These potatoes represent a more unified future for the people of our nation.”

 

Johanna throws her napkin at me. “Where do you come up with this stuff? Did you inhale too much coal dust as a child? Because these two aren't as weird as you.”

 

“Give me a break, they fried my brain, remember?”

 

“I think technically they fried _my_ brain. ”

 

Katniss grimaces. “I don't know how you two can be so morbid,” she says, shaking her head.

 

“Well,” Johanna mumbles, stabbing at her plate. “It's laugh or cry, right?”

 

“Especially for you. Your face gets all snotty when you cry,” I say. She kicks me under the table. “Haha, that's not even my real leg!” Katniss chokes on her water.

 

Jo turns to Gale and says, “Why'd you call him again?”

 

Gale shrugs. “He's making you laugh.”

 

“Yeah, at his stupid fucking face,” she mutters.

 

“I'm incredibly handsome! Tell her, Katniss.”

 

“He's incredibly handsome,” she says dutifully.

 

“Well, you've gotten better at lying, at least,” Johanna says.

 

“Everyone's out to get me,” I say mildly.

 

“No, just me,” Johanna says brightly.

 

Katniss nods her head over my shoulder and says, “Hey, there's Effie.”

 

Gale groans, “Don't call her--”

 

“Hey, Effie!” Katniss yells. “We should really thank her,” she says to him.

 

“Hello, Katniss, dear.” Katniss stands and gives Effie a hug. “I thought I would miss you. I only have the afternoon here before I should get back to Four. I have a meeting in the morning and I'm on a rather tight schedule.”

 

“What else is new?” Katniss grins.

 

“They'd fall apart without me,” Effie replies airily. “It was good to see you all,” she nods to us. “Call anytime you need.” She glances at Gale and I have a feeling she's thinking, _Even you._

 

She is halfway across the terrace before Johanna calls out, “Don't you eat, Trinket?”

 

Effie turns and says, “Beg pardon?”

 

“Why don't you eat lunch.” After a moment's silence, she huffs and says, “With _us_ , dummy.”

 

Effie gets as close to flustered as I've seen her in a long time. She checks her watch and says, “Oh—um—I suppose I will, thank you.” Gale, in a shockingly gentlemanly move, tells her to take his seat and drags one over from another table. “I must admit, I don't actually sit down to lunch very often anymore, unless it's for business.”

 

“How  _is_ the supply distribution field these days?” Johanna asks.

 

“Oh, wonderful,” Effie says. She gives a slight smile and says, “So many schedules. And people actually stick to them! I'd forgotten how easy things can be when I'm not trying to wrangle Haymitch along with me.”

 

“You'd have to bring those fucking geese with you, too, these days,” Johanna snorts.

 

“Oh, please don't bring up the geese,” Effie says darkly. “I'll be out there next week and I already have nightmares about those awful birds. Anyway, it's not as if Haymitch will _ever_ leave Twelve. Otherwise, he'd be here now. ”

 

Before anyone can dwell on Haymitch's suddenly conspicuous absence, Katniss says, “Well, if it makes you feel better, his house is kind of clean.”

 

“Jeez, what do you do to him if it's dirty?” Jo asks. “Must be something bad.”

 

“Oh, I can't do much of anything,” she says, waving a hand. “I can tell a lost cause when I see one. He's just lucky I like to clean. I never need to clean my own apartment in Four because I'm never there.”

 

The waiter comes over and she orders a salad, which Johanna rolls her eyes at, pointedly taking a huge bite of spaghetti.

 

“Anyway,” Effie continues. “Annie is quite well these days, and I don't like to hover too much.”

 

“Since when?” Gale mutters.

 

Johanna has turned a little green at the mention of Annie, even if it's good news. Before I can say anything, she blurts out, “I don't see why you're so excited to see that old drunk.” She rocks back from the table and crosses her arms over her chest. “You know he probably still hates you.”

 

Katniss chokes on her food and Gale does a literal spit take. My stomach drops.

 

To everyone's great surprise, Effie laughs, holding a hand in front of her mouth. The scar makes her look a little off if she smiles too big. She's mastered the soft half-smile. She once told me it was smiling with her eyes.

 

“Oh, I don't know,” she says. “He told me he loved me once. He was drunk and he took it back immediately, but you know, from Haymitch, that's practically a proposal.”

 

We all laugh at that—except Johanna, who makes a disgusted noise and throws down her fork. She pushes back from the table so hard that her chair falls over, and walks away, not looking back when Katniss calls her name.

 

I start to get up but Gale holds a hand up and says, “Let me.”

 

Effie has an unreadable expression. Her fingers run over her scar, worrying it like a talisman. “I think I rather made things worse,” she says softly.

 

“Don't worry,” Katniss says. “It's—a weird time.”

 

Effie nods and says, “Well, I think I'd better go.”

 

“Oh, Effie--” Katniss starts.

 

“It's alright,” Effie says quickly, getting up from the table. “I've got plenty to do. See you soon.”

 

We watch her go and then Katniss groans, dropping her head in her hands. “We shouldn't have come here.”

 

“Hey, I told you to stay home.” She glares at me. “Well, I did! Besides, one of us needs to be here. Gale is all screwed up, he can't keep the both of them together.” After a long silence, I say, “You know, this is really the time to work things out with him.” For all our sakes.

 

“Yeah, I'm aware of that, Peeta,” she snaps. “I'm trying, okay?”

 

“You are?”

 

She looks affronted. “I'm having lunch with him!”

 

I roll my eyes and glance over at Gale and Johanna. The terrace doesn't offer a lot of privacy. They're sitting on the ground against the wall. Johanna is twisting a piece of rope between her fingers, knotting it and unknotting it. I've seen Katniss do this a lot. She must notice my curious look because she softly says, “The knots—Finnick taught us. Relaxing. We did it in Thirteen while we were waiting for the rescue team to come back. I was so scared,” she says, still looking at Gale and Johanna. She presses her lips together. “Do you think he loves her?”

 

“I think he might.”

 

Then again, Gale tries to draw her close and she shoves him away. She glares and says something that makes him go still while she walks past him into the hospital. Gale looks over at us and storms away with a scowl.

 

Katniss and I sit in a somewhat gloomy silence until the waiter brings Effie's salad with a confused frown. Katniss asks for a to-go bag.

 

“You'll never eat that,” I point out.

 

“Sure, I will. What am I gonna do, throw out perfectly good food? Even if it is rabbit food,” she says, wrinkling her nose.

 

I lean over and kiss her. “We're not leaving until the end of visiting hours. Do you wanna go to bed with me?” I ask with a grin. She raises an eyebrow. “For a nap. I _am_ actually pretty tired.”

 

“Yeah, you said, what? You were at the _gym_?” she asks as we head back inside.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“...But _why_?”

 

“Uh. I don't know. I heard something. Gale was in there.”

 

“Uh-huh……...and?”

 

“Nothing, we just talked and stuff.”

 

“You and  _Gale_ just talked and stuff? What stuff?” She runs a hand through my hair and says, “Your hair's not long enough to braid.”

 

I lean into her touch and say, “Nothing. Doesn't matter.”

 

She doesn't look all that convinced, but we make our way back to our cramped little quarters in a quiet peace that seems out-of-place here. We pass Johanna's room, but she's embroiled with Aurelius and it sounds like she might be screaming.

 

We get under the blankets and curl up tight even though it's already stuffy and warm in the room. Katniss is tense against me, her mind still trying to manage the past hour into a few simple statements that she can repeat if she needs to.

 

“Why'd she get so mad at Effie?” she asks after a few minutes.

 

“Annie. Effie's there, she's not.”

 

“Well, we're all surprised about Effie. You know, Haymitch said at the hospital, _how can she be Effie if she can't put a smile on?_ ” Her voice gets a little shaky and she coughs. “Okay, not crying about Effie,” she grumbles. 

 

“I'm sure it gives you wrinkles.” She laughs and turns into me, hiding her face.

 

“Why did you ask if I think he loves her?” I ask after a moment.

 

“I don't know. It's just—surprising.” I wait for her to go on, but that's it.

 

I don't really want to ask, but I say, “Are you jealous?”

 

“Jealous of what? That everyone can have a heart-to-heart with my best friend and I can barely look at him? Why would I be jealous?”

 

“That's a good point, but…not really what I meant.”

 

“I'd have to be pretty crazy myself to be jealous of Johanna right now.” Which feels an awful lot like the question being dodged, but I'd definitely rather sleep than fight right now. In a small voice, she says, “What if she doesn't get better?”

 

I think of Johanna's body being thrown against the rocks by the storm, of her last breath being stolen by a wave. I close my eyes and say, “She's gonna be fine.”


	5. Part 2, Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playing house.

 

 

 

 

These Are Cold Days

Part 2, Chapter 2

 

 

 

 

The sun is setting by the time we awake. It's already getting to the end of visiting hours. We will likely have just enough time to eat dinner before they give us the boot. I feel a little guilty about having slept the whole afternoon away, but I mostly feel refreshed. I'm also hoping that the space of an afternoon has been good for Johanna.

 

I'm looking forward to hopefully making a real dinner after another night of facing hospital food. I'm hoping Effie thought to stock the place up. I haven't gone this long without a decent piece of bread in a long time. 

 

I only notice how still Katniss is after a few moments. I put a hand on her shoulder and go still listening for her breathing for one panicked moment. I know Katniss would be never be cruel enough to lay down next to me and die. I know she would go out to the lake and drown herself, and I know because she told me so herself. I spent a month begging her not to go out, a month wondering every day if she would ever come back, and ages just hoping that I'd know somehow if the day ever really came. I finally stopped worrying about it when she took me back to the lake for the first time since my return. Something about that seemed too special to taint.

 

I shift closer and whisper her name. She turns over and I see that her cheeks are stained with tears.

 

“Nightmare,” she whispers. 

 

“I didn't notice,” I admit.

 

“It was a—quiet one. No fire…...no death...you were just….gone. All of you. Everyone.” More tears slip out. “Everyone was gone.”

 

“I'm right here, Katniss,” I say, though I'm not sure she hears me.

 

“People are just gone so fast,” she chokes. 

 

“Katniss, if it was up to me, I'd be by your side every minute until the end of time. But whatever happens, you'll survive. You can survive anything.”

 

She shakes her head and whispers, “I can't just survive anymore, Peeta. And I can't live without you.” She props herself up on one arm and says, “I love you, you know. Don’t ever doubt that.”

 

“I know you love me...in your special Katniss way,” I smile.

 

“Mm-hmm,” she says, curling against me. “What’s my special Katniss way?”

 

“Quiet.  _ Very _ quiet.” She laughs. “Quiet and steady.”

 

“Always there,” she whispers. “ _ Always _ .”

 

We kiss a few more times but neither of us really wants to make out in what is technically a hospital bed. We get dressed and walk hand-in-hand to Johanna’s room.

 

Johanna and Gale are laughing when we come in the room. I go ahead because it's too late to back out now, but I feel Katniss come to a dead halt behind me and it's only after a squeeze of her hand that she steps through the door. She quickly pulls it away and wipes it on her pants.

 

She hesitates for a moment before she goes over and sits on the edge of Johanna's bed. Gale and Johanna have gone quiet. Katniss clears her throatbut her voice still catches when she says, “Hey, Gale.”

 

“Hey, Kat—niss.” The tension in the room doubles. Johanna looks between them for a moment and opens her mouth to speak.

 

“So,” I say quickly. “What's so funny?”

 

They share a look and start snickering again.

 

“Effie offered Johanna a job, if you can believe that,” Gale snorts. “So we're trying to imagine Johanna being Effie's assistant.”

 

“I'm sure she wasn't offering  _ that _ job,” Katniss says with a small smile. “She's not totally crazy.”

 

“Well, anyway, I'm not so sure the offer is still on the table since I screamed at her and all.”

 

“Effie gets screamed at all the time,” Katniss assures her. “It's half her job.”

 

“Why does she think you should come work with her?” I ask.

 

“I don't know. She thinks I need something to do all day. Meanwhile,  _ this _ one,” she says, jerking a thumb at Gale. “Is MIA from his big, important job.”

 

“The government hasn't fallen without me yet,” Gale points out.

 

“Disappointed?” Johanna asks with mock-sympathy.

 

“Hey, it's a paid vacation. This is family leave. You put me as your emergency contact. Guess New Panem considers that legally binding.”

 

“Wow, I should get sick more often if it's that easy.”

 

“If you think I need a vacation, you can just say so.”

 

“I do say so!” Johanna laughs. “I say so all the time!”

 

“Well,  _ I _ don't do well without anything to do, either.” He looks not quite at us, but in our direction. “What do you guys do all day?”

 

“Bake.”

 

“Hunt.”

 

“Live in the past?” Johanna suggests.

 

“Guess some stuff never changes,” Katniss shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. “What's for dinner?”

 

Johanna has the look of being both heavier and lighter, a curious side-effect of Aurelius' sessions—you feel drained but safe, emptied out and hopeful that there's something out there that can fill you up.

 

“You don't have to keep eating this shitty hospital food, you know,” Johanna says. “I'm sure Bread Boy can make you some of his dumb cheese buns.”

 

“You love those cheese buns, too,” I protest. “And you need some. I'm making them tomorrow. What kind of cheese do they have here?”

 

    Johanna looks to Gale and they both shrug.  “I don't know, cheese cheese?” she ventures.  


 

I sigh deeply.

 

“You'll be learning all about the cheeses of District Three tomorrow,” Katniss says. “You need more meat.” She looks at Gale and says, “She needs more meat.”

 

“They don't really let you walk out into the woods and shoot stuff anymore.”

 

“They never really  _ let _ us walk out into the woods and shoot stuff. Anyway, I still do it in Twelve.”

 

“Well, I don't think anyone's gonna stop  _ you _ . Anyway,  _ you _ need more meat.”

 

“You guys know you can buy meat at the store, right?” Johanna says, rolling her eyes.

 

They both look a little affronted at the idea. “I'd rather catch a rabbit in the park,” Gale says.

 

“Shut up, you love steak and you couldn't kill a cow if you tried,” Johanna scoffs.

 

“Hey,” Katniss says. “What do you think is the grossest thing that ever went in Sae's stew?”

 

“I'm sure there were rats at least once.”

 

“Ew! And yet, you almost puke at the sight of oysters,” Jo laughs. “Anyway, we already ate. You don't have to eat more hospital food. You ever have a pizza? You should get one from Three Guys Pies. Their delivery boys are cute and discrete.”

 

“We're  _ not _ ordering a pizza to a government safe house,” Gale groans.

 

“Maybe we can go to lunch tomorrow,” I suggest. “We can tell Aurelius it's therapeutic.”

 

“Mm. Not sure I'll be going out again anytime soon. So...enjoy the wonderful sights of Three, I guess. Gale's an awful tour guide.”

 

“Shocking,” Katniss says with a small smile.

 

“Maybe that can be your new job, Jo,” I say. “Tour guide.”

 

“I  _ do _ know all the best bars in town.”

 

“I'm not sure we're allowed in some of them anymore,” Gale snorts.

 

“I'd rather know the best pancake places,” Katniss says, making a face.

 

“I don't know, maybe you guys should get a round,” Johanna replies. “You really need to loosen up, Kat— _ niss _ .”

 

“Um...” Katniss mumbles, turning red. “I'm as loose as I wanna be right now, I think.” Johanna goes into hysterics laughing and Katniss stands quickly and snaps, “I'll wait downstairs.”

 

“Pure as snow,” Jo says, rolling her eyes. She glances at me and says, “I know, I know, that wasn't nice. Kiss her and make it better for me.”

 

“Kiss her yourself,” I grumble. “I mean—wait—shut up.”

 

    “Don't make me steal your girl, Mellark," she cackles. "I'll make a proper job of it."

 

“You're not funny.”

 

“Yes, I am. Tell Katniss I'm sorry.”

 

I take her hand and have a hard time letting go. I realize this is the first time I've left the hospital since I got here and I'm suddenly afraid that it will make a difference. How easy is it to die in a hospital?

 

Maybe she notices my hesitation because she squeezes my hand and says, “Sneak me some coffee in the morning, would you?”

 

“No.”

 

“One of you will,” she says confidently. “Saps.”

 

“One of us will,” I agree with a smile. “Goodnight.” I hop off the bed and Gale starts to rise as well, but Jo catches his sleeve and meets his eye for a moment before she waves me on. I linger outside the door both out of curiosity and because I'm in no rush to greet an angry Katniss. But they're speaking softly, and I'm not sure if it's good or bad. 

 

When he comes out of Johanna's room, I hear her call after him, “Enjoy Peeta's buns!”

 

Gale gets redder and redder and looks like he might have an aneurysm or something by the time he passes me by to the elevator. I don't try to get in with him.

 

***

 

I'm not sure Effie meant to get us a limo. I'm not thrilled, but then again, it does piss Gale off.

 

“Why doesn't she just invite a camera crew.” He throws his hands up. “This is stupid. I'm going home.”

 

“No,” Katniss says suddenly. “You need to come with us.”

 

He crosses his arms over his chest with a glare and says, “Oh, yeah? Why's that?”

 

Katniss mirrors him but it looks more like she's wrapping her arms around herself. Still, she tips her chin up and says, “You need to come  _ with _ us. I don't think you should be alone.” Then she looks away and turns around. “None of us should,” she says, climbing into the back of the limo.

 

I was kind of hoping Gale was going home but Katniss' words give me pause. I wonder if she knows something I don't. I shrug at him and get in beside her.

 

“Well, I'm not riding in the back,” he snaps, going around the back of the car to the passenger seat.

 

“It's a  _ limo _ ,” I scoff.

 

“Never thought I'd be back in one of these,” Katniss admits. “It's a little weird.”

 

“Feeling frisky? Hey, we've never had sex in a moving vehicle before,” I grin.

 

She rolls her eyes with a smile. “You're silly. Besides, I'm sure this place isn't  _ that _ far away.” She holds up a hand. “And  _ don't _ say you can make it fast.” 

 

    I grab her hand and kiss the back of it, pulling her closer.  I put my arms around her. “I hope this place is big. A hospital room was definitely not big enough for the four of us.” Katniss makes a non-committal noise. “What did you mean about Gale not being alone?”

 

She's quiet for a minute before she says, “Johanna spent a little time detailing all the ways he's all messed up now and...basically telling me I'm a bitch for not talking to him.”

 

“…Um...”

 

“Yeah, not really what I was expecting when I walked in the door. I thought she'd be, you know, a little less  _ Johanna _ , what with...everything. But,” she sighs, running a hand through her hair. “She's not wrong. I guess...I don't know. Things seemed a lot simpler in Twelve. But nothing's that simple,” she shakes her head. 

 

I want to prod. I want to pry. I want to demand more information. I want to  _ fix _ something.

 

I settle for saying, “I guess it's between the two of you.”

 

“It isn't though, is it?” she murmurs. She's close enough that I can feel her lips brush against my neck. “Not really.”

 

The car comes to a halt before I can speak. We find out two bad things in a row inside the house. One: the bedrooms are right next to each other. Two: there will be no cheese buns. There's only one thing in the fridge.

 

“Sandwiches,” I say sadly. “Oh.”

 

“There's always, uh...2 Pies Pizazz?” Katniss says with a shrug.

 

“I was being serious before,” Gale says darkly. “No one should know you're here. There's still a lot of people out there who would like to hurt you, Kat—niss.”

 

“Is that what you do here, then?” she asks, looking out the back window. “Protect people?”

 

“I can get happy about sandwiches,” I say loudly. “This one's ham.” 

 

“I guess that's the idea,” Gale replies. “I guess that's what I—hope.”

 

Katniss nods, but she doesn't look very sympathetic. “You just hope? You don't think you can control what they do with your—I don't know,  _ creations _ ? How much do they tell you about what they do?”

 

“The last one helped farm fish in District Four. There's not a war on anymore, Katniss.” It's the first time he hasn't tripped over her name.

 

“Turkey, your favorite,” I say, waving a fancy wrapped sandwich in her face. She swats it away, but it breaks the tension long enough for everyone to take a seat at the table. There's a long silence while we eat sandwiches without looking at each other until I say, “Hey, there's a pretty nice yard out there. Nice trees.”

 

“Do you always have to look on the fucking bright side of everything?” Gale snaps, sitting back in his chair.

 

Katniss, on the other hand, leans forward and slams her hand on the table. “Don't you dare talk to Peeta like that,” she growls.

 

“Uhhh, Katniss, thank you, but I can stick up for myself if I need to," I say.

 

“Yeah, Katniss, let him fight for himself,” he smirks. “Maybe you're ready for another round, Mellark.”

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Katniss snaps.

 

Is he trying to play chicken with me or something? I hesitate too long in answering and Katniss throws her hands up and gets up from the table. “I'm getting ready for bed,” she mutters. “We'll take the master bedroom,” she says over her shoulder. “ _ Obviously _ .”

 

I cringe as she walks away and bite my lip because I know better than to say 'sorry' to him for that.

 

So I say, “What the hell were you thinking? Are you crazy?”

 

“What? You two don't share everything?” he asks, rolling his eyes and getting up. He drops his plate in the sink with a loud clatter and goes out the back door.

 

“Hey,” I yell. “You can't just walk away from me."  Gale strides to the end of the yard and stops short at the fence. "You're really an asshole, you know,” I say as I reach him.

 

     He crosses his arms over his chest and says over his shoulder, “And you are _so_ perfect, Mellark.” 

 

“Is there something wrong with  _ your _ brain? Why would you say that?” He doesn't answer and doesn't turn around. I grab his arm and say, “You can at least--”

 

He spins around and tears his arm away. “Don't touch me,” he snaps.

 

“What is your problem, Gale?”

 

“My problem--” he growls.

 

“Is me? Are you serious?”

 

He pushes me and stumble back against one of the yard's many nice trees. I close my eyes  _ before _ he kisses me. I don't know why I anticipate it. I don't know why I'm not surprised. It seems obvious somehow, as does the roughness of his kiss and the bite of his teeth. I'm much more startled by the moan that comes out of me when he presses me against the tree. I grab a handful of his jacket but I'm not sure whether I want to push or pull.

 

I feel his hand at my waist, the bark of the tree against my back, the lines of his body tense and moving against mine. He pulls away enough to breathe. My lips still brush his when I say his name and he pulls away with so much force that I almost fall on my face.

 

Gale backs away with one hand over his mouth and disappears around the side of the house before I can say anything, still catching my breath. I sit next to the nice tree and go through every calming exercise I can think of until everything stops shaking. And I have to wait for this fucking erection to go away.

 

I spend a few minutes banging my head against the tree and wondering what’s wrong with me. I don’t like keeping secrets. I’m good at it, but I don’t like it. Now I’m racking them up.

 

Going back inside, I’m bitterly jealous for a moment that Gale isn’t going to have to put on a brave face and pretend things are fine. That, somehow, always falls to me.

 

I know Katniss isn’t asleep when I slip into the master bedroom, but I’m happy to let her pretend. I strip off my clothes and brush myself off, like there might be something tangible left on my skin for her to discover. She doesn’t stir until I’ve been lying next to her for a while with my lips pressed together so I can’t feel them tingling.

 

She rolls over suddenly and presses herself against my side, mumbling, “Sorry I left. Where did you go?”

 

“Nowhere, just outside.”

 

She touches her lips to mine quickly. “Did you fight?”

 

“We--didn’t get anywhere. I don’t even know where he is.”

 

“You let him wander out there alone?” she asks, sitting up.

 

“He didn’t really ask for permission,” I grouse. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’s a grown-up.”

 

Katniss is already out of bed. “So is Johanna,” she yells, grabbing clothes off the floor. “I need to--”

 

There's a crash downstairs, followed by three more, the sound of dishes breaking on a tile floor. We glance at each other. I remember Gale's warning about people wanting to hurt Katniss. I take her hand and pull her behind me before I start down the stairs. They creak like crazy but we don’t hear anyone scurrying to get away. 

 

I wave at her to stay back while I look in the kitchen but she is right behind me when I find Gale standing in the dark, surrounded by broken dishes. He doesn’t even seem to notice we’ve come in until Katniss cries out, “Gale, your hand!” He’s still gripping a shard from one of the plates and a puddle of blood is growing on the floor.

 

Gale finally looks up, blinks, and says, “I broke a plate.”

 

“You broke a  _ few _ ,” Katniss says, skirting around the mess on the floor. She holds out a hand to him and says, “Just give me that piece and come here, okay?”

 

He holds his hand out and loosens his grip on the sliver of glass. “I broke a plate,” he says again as Katniss carefully pulls the shard out and sets it on the counter.

 

She puts her clean hands in his bloody ones and says, so soft I can barely hear her across the kitchen, “Now come here, Gale.”

 

I can make out their embrace in the dim light, hear the staccato sounds of someone trying not to cry, Katniss’ whispers of reassurance that fuzz together and lay over you like a warm blanket. 

 

I’m not sure they even notice when I leave the kitchen. I make my way back to the bedroom and lay down, curled up in the warm spot Katniss has left, listening for a break in the silence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your interest and support! I will try to finish this story out--only two more chapters! Next time: to the kitchen...and beyond!
> 
> Also, check out my Gale/Johanna story '365 Days of Getting By', set in this verse but before this story.


	6. Part 3, Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens in the safe house...

 

 

 

There Are Cold Days

Part 3, Chapter 1

 

 

 

 

 

I dream of them. I dream of kisses and dark hair and olive skin. It should be horrible. It should send me into an uncontrollable rage. If there was ever a time for a flashback, it’s now.

 

But I don't dream of them kissing and laughing at me like I might have. Like I was afraid I would. I'm already sure I'd be dead if Gale had been around the first time I tried to kill Katniss. I don't need to give him a second chance.

 

But the dream is more complicated than that. It's closer to a sex dream than any kind of nightmare and I wake up hard with echoes of in my head of Gale's teeth against my neck and Katniss' lips soothing the bite. Or maybe the other way around. It became hard to tell after awhile.

 

I listen closely, but the house seems as still as it was before. Then again, they're quiet. They could have snuck out while I was asleep. 

 

I lay in the dark for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling and letting my thoughts wind up and wind down, filled with a weird, restless longing, like waiting for the rain. 

 

I don't have to wait long before I hear creaks downstairs, traveling from the kitchen to the living room and making their way up the stairs.

 

I get out of bed and meet them in the hall. Katniss is holding Gale’s hand, which is bandaged now. She lets go when she sees me.   


 

She clears her throat, puts a hand to her chest. 

 

"Did you wait up?" she asks, sounding guilty.

 

"No," I assure her. "You were so quiet that I fell asleep." I look between them. "No more glass?"

 

"No more glass."

 

"Sorry," Gale says. His voice is raspy. 

 

"They weren't  _ my  _ dishes," I shrug. 

 

"You must be tired," Katniss frets. "I'll come to bed right now." She addresses this more to Gale than to me.

 

I stand in the hall for a moment before Gale turns to go back to the guest room.

 

“Wait,” Katniss says suddenly, her voice booming in the silence of the house. 

 

They drift towards each other without speaking until they're close enough that I'm sure they can hear each other's shaky breathing. I don't want to break the moment. Not when it feels so important. 

 

    But I can also sense that they could stare silently at each other all night.

So I move farward and put my hand on her waist. "Come with us," I say quietly.

 

Katniss sucks in a sharp breath, looking over her shoulder at me. I sweep her hair off to one side and kiss the slope of her neck, feeling her shiver against me and lean back into the touch. 

 

I meet Gale's eyes when I pull away. The look in them is dazed. He drops his eyes to hers. They look at each other for a long moment until I sigh loudly into the silence and reach out. I go around her waist and grab Gale's hand. I place it low on her back and linger there until his palm melts against the skin there. 

 

'Melt' is the accurate word, as I feel something shift between us, becoming fluid and warm. Katniss lets out a breath and I feel her lean forward, her back curving away from me as she reaches for Gale's other hand. The back of her neck is damp with sweat. 

 

She comes back, pulling her with him so that we all bump and crowd each other before we steady. I can feel the heat of Gale's hand, the press of his knuckles, through my t-shirt, reaching across my skin.

 

Katniss reaches back and takes my hand. She leads us both forward into the bedroom. She doesn't seem nervous. Maybe we've all been expecting this, in a way. She seems assured and calm, like she's in the woods and knows just what to do. She reaches for both of our shirts and manages to undo the top buttons of both. 

 

Gale catches her hand, closing his fingers around hers urgently. “Is this--?”

 

_ Real or not real _ ?

 

Whatever Gale was about to say is cut off when Katniss shakes him off and presses her fingers to his lips. “Shhh.” She puts her hand on his shoulder. “It's okay.” She undoes another button, then a third, guided only by his jumpy breaths. She gives me a questioning look over her shoulder, as if asking what to do next. I don’t know how I became the leader here.

 

     I look to Gale but he is ducking his head and turning her away for a kiss. For a moment, they seem to forget I'm there. Or so I think. It's only a few moments before she reaches back for my hand and pulls it around her waist. Now I wonder if he he can feel the heat of my grip against her. I feel the swell of his breaths pressing me into her waist. 

 

Katniss pulls away from Gale long enough to tug his shirt off and then pushes him to sit on the bed. I watch her stand between his legs, his arms coming around her hips and his hands bunching the thin, cool cotton of her nightgown. His lips touch her belly. I close the door behind us.

 

Once I shut the door, I’m not sure where to stand. So I do what I always do when I’m unsure--I go to her. I place my hands on her waist, just above Gale’s, close enough that our hands brush. Katniss leans down to kiss him and her hair tumbles over her shoulder. I bite her neck and I can  _ feel _ the noise she makes against his lips rumble through me. They kiss with a desperation that I remember from my first frenetic kisses with Katniss-- we kissed like we weren’t sure our lips would ever touch again. 

 

I know it's not just that, though. Katniss explained it once with fire--that I was the hearth that kept her warm, where Gale was the wildfire that would burn her out. But sometimes you want to stick your hand in the fire, run your fingers through the flames, feel the heat of it, the closeness of chaos, the crackle of that energy. Sometimes you want to burn.

 

So we will set her alight.

 

***

 

I don’t dream at all.

 

I wake up on my back with Katniss’ side pressed against mine, rising and falling slowly in a sound sleep. She looks peaceful. I realize none of us had nightmares.

 

Gale is close on Katniss’ other side. I watch the rise and fall of his chest and remember Katniss burying her face in it. The curve of his shoulder and her teeth against it. When she had leaned forward on top of him and I could see his cock sliding into her, red and wet. The way her thighs trembled when she shivered.

 

I reach up to my own shoulder and feel the tender spot below my ear where she had sucked with a wild abandon as her body writhed and flowed against mine, her chest pressed close to mine so that I could feel the frenzy of her heartbeat. Gale and I bumping knees and elbows, passing in her orbit. Her hair, dark and heavy  and fragrant around me when she rose over me, the flush that had made her skin as fevered as her kisses. The tart flavor of her against my tongue with Gale’s eyes burning against us. Watching them myself. 

 

And then Katniss. It hadn’t been long before she had paused and looked between the two of us nervously for a moment before blurting, “I saw you, you know.” She chewed her lip. “In the backyard.”

 

Gale looked to me like I should know how to save us, like I was supposed to know what the hell I was doing.

 

But Katniss had shaken her head and said, “No--it makes sense. And--” She took a sharp breath and pressed her hand between her legs. “I liked watching you.”

 

Which I had not been expecting. As an explaination, I said, “It was that or punching.”

 

Katniss had snorted. “That somehow doesn’t surprise me.”

 

Gale had gone redder than I thought possible. “Catnip,” he started.

 

Katniss held up a hand to stop him and looked between us again. “Do it again,” she said slowly.

 

So we had shared a kiss that wasn’t preceded by a near-fist fight--not that that seemed to have any impact on the intensity, or the way we struggled against each other as much as we pressed together, always trying to gain the upper hand. The dirty tacticts were the same as wrestling, basically...hair-pulling, biting, illegal holds--unnecessary roughness. Anything to get a gasp, a jump, a twitch. I think we might have come all over each other if Katniss hadn’t beaten us there, watching with one hand between her thighs and one against her heart. 

 

   The room is dim with morning light. The bed is warm and musky. Gale’s arm stretches across Katniss’ waist. I brush our hands together and he grasps my fingers in his, sighing in his sleep against the halo of Katniss’ hair. She turns her head towards him with a sleepy noise and reaches down, clumsily patting our hands. I watch our three hands rise and fall with her breath in wonder for a few minutes. 

 

   Gale cracks an eye open and mumbles, “Making sure we’ll still here?” 

 

   I remember more details--the dampness of her eyes against my neck when she came a third time, the feeling of Gale holding me tight enough to bruise.

 

   I smile a little. “Something like that,” I whisper.

 

I slowly pull my hand away from Gale’s after he drifts back into sleep. Katniss turns into his side. They settle together without waking up. 

 

They must be exhausted because they sleep through me taking a shower and making tea in the kitchen. They don’t even wake up when I come back to the bedroom and scribble a note:  _ Went to the hospital, take your time, see you later _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Threesomes are always the simplest solution!
> 
> Also, I wrote another Gale/Johanna story with some Katniss thrown in called 'A Closet With A View', please check it out!
> 
> "I wake up ten times a night anyway."  
> "To make sure Katniss is still here?" asks Peeta.  
> "Something like that,"...  
> -Mockingjay


	7. Part 3, Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't abandon you!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part 3, Chapter 2

 

 

 

 

 

    When I find Johanna in her room at the hospital, she’s scribbling furiously in a notebook and ignoring the tray of chewy bacon and gooey eggs sitting at the foot of the bed. She looks up and doesn’t seem surprised to see me in the doorway.

 

    “Hey, Bread Boy. Where are our sullen friends?” She stops and peers at me. “And what do you look so happy about? Did you get your _fucking_ buns?”

 

    “No one enjoyed my buns last night,” I say, which is technically true if we are referring to cheese buns. “It’s nice out. Come on, I’m springing you. I convinced Doc that you need to get out of here for a few hours or something. Like, all the way off hospital grounds this time.”

 

    “I don’t know,” she says, holding up the notebook. “I’m making so much progress right now!”

 

    “Your therapy journal will still be there. Believe me. It’s _always_ there.”

 

    “Ugh...you’re lucky Trinket brought me clothes,” she grumbles, getting out of the bed and grabbing a bag from the table by the door. The change of clothes almost makes me tear up, like it halfway brings the real Johanna back. _And yet, my most intimate moments with Johanna have involved hospital gowns._ She catches my wry smile and glares, demanding to know what’s so fucking funny about the color green. It’s forest green, in fact. “It happens to be my favorite color,” she sniffs. “And isn’t yours orange? Fuck off.”

 

    “I was just thinking I’d like to burn that hospital gown.” I hold my arm out to her. “Ready?”

 

    “Yes,” she says. She walks past me without even glancing at my gallant gesture. “I know just where to go.” She leads me through the neighborhood towards an area with more businesses. I wonder how much time she’s spent at this damn hospital.   

 

    Our destination is on a quiet corner. Johanna goes up to the front window and raps twice on the glass. The hostess inside looks up and nods to her. I’m confused when Johanna leads me around the corner to the alley, but a wooden gate pops opens behind the restaurant. “Hey, Jo!” the hostess from inside says brightly. She trips up for a moment when she sees me, shock and disbelief and awe coming over her face, but she recovers nicely and gives me a smile.

 

    She turns to Jo and says, “I have to warn you, it’s a little more crowded than usual.” She leads us through the gate and past a few tables, enough for people to start murmuring around us. There’s a table in the corner of the courtyard that’s surrounded by trees and shrubs and a low brick wall, effectively blocked off completely from the rest of the tables.

 

    “Welcome to the VIP area,” Johanna says wryly, dropping into her seat.

 

    “Can I get y’all a drink?” The waitress asks.

 

    Johanna opens her mouth but I beat her there and say, “We’ll just have water.”

 

    The waitress raises an eyebrow and looks at Johanna for confirmation. Johanna huffs and waves a hand. “Alright, then.” She lowers her notepad and says, ”We missed y’all at brunch on Sunday. Did you actually manage to have that quiet Saturday night you always talk about?”

 

    “No...no, I was otherwise engaged on Sunday morning. The food was terrible and they did _not_ take my drink order. By the way, this is my friend, Peeta. Peeta, this is Rachel.”

 

    Rachel is speechless for a few moments before she says, “What can I get for you?” Her voice has suddenly gone up three octaves.

 

    I smile and say, “What do you recommend?”

 

    “Uh...the strawberry crepes are really good.”

 

    “Then I’ll have the crepes and two eggs, scrambled.”

 

    She nods. “Got it. Jo? Hashbrowns, bacon, OJ?”

 

    “Sounds good. Ah, and coffee.”

 

    “Mm, you said not to give you coffee.”

 

    “Don’t listen to me, I’m crazy.”

 

    “I’ll bring you tea,” the waitress says with a decisive nod.

 

    “Fuck,” Johanna groans as she walks away.

 

    “How often do you come here?”

 

    “All the time. Gale lives six blocks from here, four for me. Obviously Rachel is a nosy bitch who knows all my business,” she says, throwing her hands up. She waves around us and says, “They set this all up just for us. I told Gale I wanted to come here, but they have a fake waterfall in the lobby. So I figure I’ll just never ever go there, you know? But Gale goes in and talks them into letting us in the side door and sits there with this smug smile the whole time.” She rolls her eyes but she is almost smiling herself.

 

    “That’s sweet.”

 

    “Shut up,” she replies, slumping down in her seat.

 

    Rachel comes back with a pot of strong tea--and a miniature-sized cup of coffee.

 

    “Ah, sweet angel,” Johanna sighs. She drinks the whole cup in one go and slaps a hand on the table. “Again, again!”

 

    But there’s no more coffee when she lays out our food. Johanna sighs and pours herself a cup of tea. We eat in silence for awhile because it’s been too long since either of us had something besides hospital food and sandwiches. Well, the silence is broken every time Johanna takes a bite of her bacon.

 

    I sit back with my tea and say, “It’s nice to see you out of the hospital. You seem more like yourself.”

 

    Johanna is quiet for awhile before she says, “I _am_ myself at the hospital. That’s the problem. I can never be who I used to be.”

 

    “You’re both. Two selves, just sharing space. I know what that’s like, remember? I’m _me--_ I’m _me_ \--but I always know there’s something else in there. In my head, in my heart. It’s something I fight against all the time. Just like you.”

 

     She leans forward, something defeated in her posture. “And? How do you do it?”

 

     “I just keep fighting.”

 

     “Why?” she asks flatly.

 

     “For big reasons, sometimes, like all the sacrifices not being in vain or not letting _him_ win in the end. But mostly for little things, like...when Katniss bumps her foot against mine under the table at breakfast, or when Haymitch smiles at a goose, or when I find exactly the right shade for a painting.” Her eyes have softened. “And I know you have those moments. You tell me so yourself.” And they harden again.

 

     “You and Katniss are different,” she snaps, leaning back. “And you know it. You have--each other.” I can tell by the already angry set of her shoulders that she expects me to say, _You have Gale_ , and I imagine she would immediately say, _Do I_? The spectre of Katniss, always in the corner of her eye.

 

    Instead, I say, “You want some down home Mellark wisdom?”

 

    “Beat your kids?”

 

    I clench my jaw and stare her down until she sighs and apologizes. Her teeth are so sharp. She _needs_ someone tough, and loyal, and kind.

 

    “My advice-- there’s love in front of you, Johanna. Whether you can accept it or not. Grab it. Grab it and hold on and don’t worry if it’s perfect or if it’ll last forever or if you deserve it.”

 

    She frowns. “You’re basically telling me, what, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?”

 

    “You’re a pragmatist, Jo. You know what I mean. You think I’ve never worried that Katniss stays with me because she feels guilty, or that she’ll realize that one day, or that we were never meant to be together at all and I’m selfish to even want her to love me? Of course I have. But I trust Katniss. And you would trust Gale if you’d let yourself.” I hold out my hand and she reluctantly takes it. “I know you’ve been brave your whole life and maybe it’s cruel to tell you to be brave again, but--be brave. Be...Johanna.”

 

    I politely drink my tea and look away while she dries her cheeks with her napkin. She gives me a thoughtful look and says, “Did you ever think maybe we got is switched around and it was supposed to be him and her and you and me?”

 

    “You need someone tougher than me,” I laugh.

 

    “You’re the toughest person I know,” she shrugs.

 

    “They don’t work together. I think that’s something Katniss realized a long time ago.”

 

    “And what makes you say that?”

 

    “She told me once that she and Gale are like fire and fire. All they get is destruction.”

 

    “So what are we, water?”

 

    “No...you and Gale…” She tenses, and I’m not sure if it’s worry over what I’ll say or just the sound of their names together. “You’re like fire and a rock. He won’t change you, but he’ll make you warm. And Katniss and I make embers. Something wild becomes warm and safe and steady.”

 

    “ _Fuck_ , you’re poetic.” She shakes her head and pauses. “So what do embers and rocks make?”

 

    “An outdoor stove,” I say matter-of-factly. “But that doesn’t really fit my analogy.”

 

    “Were you planning this all morning?” She asks tiredly, sipping her tea. “That was a great speech.”

 

    “I made up that whole analogy on the spot,” I admit.

 

    She shakes her head again. “You’re amazing, Mellark.”

 

    “That’s why you should listen to me.”

 

    Johanna tosses a generous handful of bills on the table and we leave. Neither of us is ready to go back to the hospital yet, so we take a quiet, meandering walk. I make Johanna take me to the store for flapjack ingredients and we go back to the house. I know, somehow, that Katniss and Gale won’t be there. I’m right.

 

    “So what do we do now?” she asks, sinking into the couch.

 

    “I have an idea.” Effie saw to it that the house had a decent sketchpad and pencil set. I convince Johanna to let me sketch her. I do one while she’s awake and one after she’s fallen asleep with her head bent over the back of the couch. I long for a decent set of paints so I could lay her on a bed of moss the same shade of green that she and Katniss love so much. I fall asleep listening to her deep, steady breathing. It’s probably the best sleep Johanna has had in awhile. It’s hard to coax her awake until I bring up flapjacks.

 

    We’re sitting at the kitchen table, eating and not talking about the still-empty house when Gale and Katniss come back. It’s really not surprising at all that they’re carrying a sack full of dead animals. It also doesn’t surprise _me_ that they’re laughing and joking like the past two years haven’t happened. But it definitely surprises Johanna. She looks utterly disturbed.

 

   “Cleaning up roadkill as a hobby now, Hawthorne?” Johanna asks.

 

   They both look happy to see her. Gale comes over and kisses the top of head. Now, Johanna looks bewildered.

 

    “You didn’t run away, did you?”

 

    “We had urgent breakfast business.”

 

    “It’s awfully late for breakfast now,” Johanna points out.

 

    “Well,” Katniss says, emptying eight dead rabbits on to the kitchen counter. “It’ll have to be a dinner pass now.”

 

    “I’ll make pot pies,” I say, getting up from the table. Gale takes my seat and kicks Johanna’s foot under the table. Katniss smiles and takes my hand.

 

    “Did you shoot all these yourself, Brainless?”

 

    “Gale did help slightly,” she admits.

 

    “I got the weapons, didn’t I?”

 

    “Yes, and I think you shot…..one? You’re not great with a bow, Gale.”

 

    “He’s not great with a knife either.”

 

    “Better stick to the grocery store, Hawthorne,” Katniss says with a smirk.

 

    “I bet I could still beat you,” he sniffs.

 

    And so the three of them end up in the backyard throwing pocket knives at trees and arguing loudly over whether it counted if the knife didn’t stick in the tree, which they did not because they were steak knives. I sat on the back porch and watched the marvel of these three people laughing and joking and holding knives together.

 

    Gale is legitimately bad, so he joins me on the porch after a while and we watch the girls take down trees in a comfortable silence.

 

    Eventually, I say, “Do you know Johanna’s favorite color?”

 

    “Green. Like, forest green. Why?”

 

    “I’d say that’s a good sign.”

 

    “Why?”

 

    I realize he knows Johanna’s favorite color--but not Katniss’. I smile slightly. “Like I said. Good signs.”

 

    “You’re cryptic today,” he comments.

 

    “What did you and Katniss do besides kill bunnies?”

 

    “We talked.” He doesn’t say more.

 

    We stuff ourselves with pot pies and build a fire in the yard. Effie has left us a bag of puffy white blobs with instructions to toast them, so I bring them out with some forks.

 

    “What's a marshmallow?” Gale asks skeptically.

 

    “I don't know,” I say. “Effie sent them.”

 

    “Aw, light and fluffy, just like her, Johanna says, rolling her eyes. “How sweet.” She takes the bag from Gale, tears it open, and bites a piece off of one of them. “Bleh. I hope they're better hot.”

 

    The temperature drops steadily as the sun sets. I find blankets in a trunk on the porch. I take one to sweep around Katniss and me and toss one to Gale. He glances at Johanna and holds the blanket open to her. She gives him a considering look and then looks at me and Katniss, both of us studiously skewering marshmallows.

 

    “Oh, come on,” he smiles. He shakes the blanket like a snake charmer. “For your health. These are cold days. Colder nights.” Johanna sighs and moves closer to him. He pulls the blanket around her and tucks it in. They both look equally surprised when she lets him draw her against him.

 

    Hesitantly, Katniss says, “It gets pretty cold in Seven though, right?”

 

    Johanna bristles under the blanket and kicks a rock, finally saying, “Yeah, real cold. We had maple syrup and hot tea.” I don't think anyone expects more, but she continues, “We took it in big mugs when we went to work. Dad always slipped brandy in his.” We listen to the sound of the fire crackle for a while. Johanna falls asleep in Gale’s arms and he takes her back to the hospital.

 

    Katniss and I make love on the same sheets as last night. She seems content not to talk except to look at me with her eyes the color of slate, sleepy and soft. She falls asleep but I slip out of bed and down to the couch. I doze off and wake up when the front door creaks. Gale comes into the living room and doesn’t look surprised to see me.  

 

    “Hey,” I say quietly. “How’s Johanna?”

 

    “Good, I think.” He sits next to me on the couch and gives me a wry smile. “I won’t ask about your methods.”

 

    “I should probably give some credit to the nap,” I shrug. I pause and then say, “Do you want to sleep with us?”

 

    “No,” he says slowly. He smiles. “That’s okay.”

 

    None of us have nightmares.

 

    The next day, we all go to the park because Dir. Aurelius thinks social time is good for Johanna. He tells her that night that she can leave in the morning and Johanna tells us, not unkindly, that we can leave now. She doesn’t even let us accompany her home because she frankly says, “It looks like a suicidal person’s apartment. Do you really wanna see that?”

 

    So Katniss and I go to Three Guys Pies and have something called a pizza. Katniss eats more than half, but I can never deny a hungry Katniss. I promise to learn how to make them. Johanna and Gale come back for dinner--a stew reminiscent of Greasy Sae’s, since we took to speaking tentatively about the past around the fire after dinner.

 

    Tonight, though, I find myself getting on a hovercraft under the same cover of darkness that I arrived under, this time with Katniss by my side. I hug Johanna and she grudgingly admits that my ‘gift horse crap’ worked.

 

    She peers at me and says, “I want to ask what you did to Gale, but I’m not sure I want to ask about your methods.” She doesn’t understand why I laugh, so she punches me on the arm and mumbles a quick thanks while Katniss is telling Gale not to be a stranger.

 

    Gale and I don't hug, and we definitely don't kiss. I do glance at his lips and wonder if we should have when we had the chance. He glances at mine and I think he’s probably thinking the same thing.

 

    His hand settles warmly on my shoulder. He says, “I used to really hate you, you know.”       

 

    “You don’t say?”

 

    “You’re pretty decent.”

 

    “What glowing praise. Happy to be appreciated.”

 

    Katniss and I wave goodbye to them, hand-in-hand and growing smaller by the second. I catch a fond look lingering on her face. I lean in and kiss her softly. She takes my hand and I feel, for the first time, that maybe all of us will really be okay.

 

    I smile. She smiles back.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment if you enjoyed!


End file.
